Reaching the Light- Finnick's Story
by FireLion13
Summary: Follow Finnick's story from his first reaping, and how he learns some important lessons on his journey.


Hi! If you're reading this I'm thankful for you reading my story! So far there's only this chapter- so let's see how things go! Bearing in mind that this if my **first** **fanfiction ever**, so if there are some mistakes or things that don't quite make sence, then I'm really sorry :)

As for Finnick's POV, I've wanted to do something around his early life, and I figured his first reaping would be a good way to start. Oh! And he meets Annie for the first time! :D

Thanks for reading, and I own none of the later plot lines and Finnick and Annie's charecters or The Hunger Games itself- all my credit goes to Suzanne :D

Enjoy! :)

* * *

**Chapter one**

He lay awake in the middle of the night, listening to his breathing slow gradually. The dream stained his mind, bright and powerful. His eyes traced around his tiny room to the window. It was open, a cool summer breeze wafting up the powder blue curtains. Outside he could hear the waves crashing against the shore. He could imagine them spraying up against the impact, and then come billowing down. The town was quiet, as it usually was. He sat up gradually and walked sleepily over to the window. The moonlight dappled the roofs of the houses as they slid down to the shore. The fishing village was on a hill, and with his house near the top, he could see the town splayed out in front of him. The moon was full, and sat eerily in the empyrean. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the sky, and then he could see the stars. He knew the cosmos well, after spending cold nights studying the bright spheres in the atmosphere. He placed his hands on the wooden window sill and sighed, feeling the breeze against his hot cheeks. His dream was the same every time, he was always running from something he couldn't see, an always- _always_- before he woke up a girl screamed. He raked his hand through his unruly bronze hair and watched the moonlight on the calmer waves.

After his legs became stiff he sat down on his small bed, and laid back, hands behind his head. His breathing was regular now, and he settled down to a dreamless sleep.

He woke up to the sound of shouting downstairs and groaned, thrusting his thin pillow over his face. He knew his father was arguing with his mother, and he couldn't help the fact. He stood up too quickly then, and had to sit down again for a while. After he had got dressed he grabbed his backpack and made his way down the stairs. His house was made of wood, bleached and white washed. Little trinkets and paintings hung up on the walls as he made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a piece of freshly cut bread and sighed. His mother and father were still shouting at each other in the living room- arguing about something ridiculous. They would always make up afterwards, so there was really no point in standing in. He found a cut off piece of blue paper and scribbled on it to tell them where he was going. He then walked out the back door and made his way down the steep flight of stone steps to the garden. It was in full bloom, red, pink and violet flowers all mingled together through the long grass. He guessed his father would tell him to cut it sometime, and he didn't mind. The huge oak tree at the back of the round garden stood tall, his old tree house- mainly just bits of odd planks spare from his father's work- sat crumpled on the branches. He would sometimes climb all the way up there and perch on it and watched the world go by from his secret hide out.

He turned away from the sunlit garden to the path that led to the front of the house. Husbands and fathers were making their way down to the harbour, and he knew it must be early. He chewed on the salty bread as he walked away from the sea of people, down the sunny path over ridden with weeds that pushed up through the concrete. Trees with the greenest leaves hung over his head as he walked down the thin path.

Today was a Saturday, and he did what he always did on a Saturday, he helped his father at work. Since he was arguing with his mother, the boy decided to walk down the not-so-crowded lane to his father's boat. His father was the captain of the old fishing company, and his grandfather had signed over to the Capitol fishing company to make more money and have a better life. They used to work for District four alone, but since his grandfathers decision they worked for the Capitol, providing for them.

The boy emerged from the path way to the steep walk down a small cliff face to the tiny harbour where the little boat dipped up and down on the calm waves. Seagulls flew over his head and squawked loudly, but he was used to them. He got to the wooden harbour and hopped onto the boat. It was blue and faded white, with the words 'Sea Sailor' written in bold blue curly writing along the side. He smelt the strong stench of fish as he clambered on deck, he shrugged off his backpack which thumped on the wooden floor, and he crossed over to the other side of the boat to collect the fishing nets from the box. He laid them out carefully, feeling the rugged rope tug at his fingers. His stomach rumbled then, and he cursed himself for not eating a decent breakfast.

He wondered into the cabin at the back of the boat and flipped the switches on. Lights turned on immediately and he felt the power engine under his toes. Inside the cabin it was warm, too warm. He opened up the windows inside and felt the sea air breathe into the room. Then he walked to the back room- a tiny kitchen- and searched for something to end his hunger. He opened up the cupboards and found a jar of sun-dried tomatoes in marinade and a stump of bread from two days before. He set out from the cabin and sat down next to the nets, feeling the warm sun on his arms and legs. He forced the jar open and laid two tomatoes on the hard bread. It was salty and seedy, and that was just how he liked it.

Suddenly he felt the boat dip again and realised that his father must have joined him finally.

"Morning Finnick," He heard behind him, and the young boy turned around and brushed off the crumbs on his t-shirt. His father hoisted up the flag with the Panem symbol on it- as they were accustomed to do- onto the flag pole and pulled at the rope until the flag was waving at the top. His father looked down, and smiled broadly, his sea-green eyes glinting merrily. "You're up early, thought I'd have to come and wake you up." His father told him, stroking his beard. Finnick got up quickly, as if reporting to duty. His father smiled again, and glanced downwards towards the tomato jar.

"I was hungry..." Finnick said hurriedly. However, Mr. Odair just smiled and patted his sons shoulder.

"You should have asked your mother to cook you a _decent _meal, son. You need to pack more muscle in!" His father exclaimed, shoving Finnick's shoulder as he bent down and picked up the jar, and walked back into the cabin to replace it.

Finnick was just sorting out the crabbing cages when his father came back. The older man beamed when he saw the ready nets, and then picked them up without another thought, swinging two huge nets onto his shoulder as he linked them onto the rail.

Finnick twisted strange and complicated knots while his father attached the crabbing cages to a long piece of thick rope, with a bright yellow buoy at the end. He and his father lunged the traps off the side of the boat, in hopes to collect them later, filled with game.

Finnick stood at the front of the boat, on the sliver of an edge and holding onto the flag pole, as his father started the engine. They revved into the distance, leaving district four- and Panem- behind them.

It was late morning when they had stopped, piling the nets onto the deck. Hundreds of fish and shrimp flopped up and down helplessly under the net. Finnick's father whooped when he saw a particularly large one, and beamed down at his son.

"Biggest tuna I've seen for a while. I promised the mayor that he could have the big ones, you know how he is." The older man told his son, and he threw the huge tuna into a barrel and closed the lid.

They tried to sort out the fish rather quickly, seagulls already swarming around them. His father had a resolution though about 10 minutes in, after being battered by the birds. He rounded off the cabin and Finnick heard him click a switch, and then nothing. All the gulls flew immediately away, and then Mr. Odair reappeared, beaming once more.

"I had almost forgotten about it, the Capitol gave us some new equipment, a siren to keep the birds away. We can't hear it, though." Said the man, and resumed to sorting out the fish and shrimp.

After, they sat on the ledge of the boat, eating sandwiches that his father had brought for them. The green bread was salty from the seaweed, and, as a special treat, it had thin slivers off pink salmon between the pieces of bread. Finnick knew why, and he didn't want to admit it. But his father did.

"To the reaping!" He exclaimed, thrusting his drink of water into the air. Finnick joined him, rather sheepishly. His father noticed and looked down at him, an unmistakable look of questioning upon his aged face. "What's wrong son?"

"I don't know." Finnick replied, looking down to the waves that tickled his toes. "I guess it's because it's my first one." Finnick admitted.

"Ah. I remember my first, I was like you, scared out of my wits." The man said, and sighed. "Don't worry, your name is only in once, I made sure."

Finnick heaved a breath. "It's just that people at school, in my class, said they'd volunteer."

"They all say that, Finn. They are just scared too, but they put a brave face on." Mr. Odair told him. And Finnick believed him, like he always did. Finnick knew people would volunteer to be tributes; they were the brave and admired people. He just thought it was downright clumsy, stupid. They'd want to risk their lives just for the entertainment of the Capitol? It was ridiculous.

Later they reared the boat around, since Finnick had to be in the town square at precisely two o'clock that very day. They got back to the small harbour with ease, and Finnick- with the help of his father- pulled in the crab traps. They had a bountiful harvest, and then the boat was speeding down to the mariner to drop off the food. His father's fishing company was a highly respected organisation. Their fish were someone the ones people most favoured, the wealthiest people in the district –and of course the Capitol- brought the fish at a hefty price. Finnick didn't know why, maybe it was because they caught their fish by handmade nets and traps, not like the big fishing joints that used monstrous machinery.

The little boat looked defiantly out of place, like it always did, at the huge mariner. Steel ships that gobbled up the sea bed were seven times the size of theirs. Mr. Odair didn't feel intimidated, though. He had told Finnick that a long time ago. They gave the big barrels to their team mate and company partner, Rusty, who checked them off on his time table and took away the fish in his colossal arms to the small warehouse that stated 'Odair Fishing Company' for the market tomorrow.

Finnick's father took off again in the small but speedy boat towards their private harbour, hooking the huge tuna with a steel rod though the mouth and flipping it over his back. Finnick gathered his things that he had got out of his backpack that day, homemade fishing lines, the start of nets that could take years upon years to do by hand, and little feather loops with hooks at the end- bait.

They walked back together at one o'clock, up the steep pathway to the smooth edge of land again. They entered the town that was swarming with people, and Finnick knew it was far too early for them to be there. He and his father made it to the huge mayor's mansion that stood just out of town, and Finnick knocked on the door. A slight woman with brown, with dark wavy hair and blue eyes with a giggling green eyed baby on her right hip smiled brightly as the door opened.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Cresta." Finnick's father said beside him. Finnick smiled easily at her, and then waved to the baby. "I need to drop this off for your family." The older man said, holding out the fish. Mrs. Cresta beamed then, and called for her husband. A man appeared then, with brown hair and green eyes- much like everyone in district four. He smiled enthusiastically at the huge fish, and he came into full view.

"Mr. Odair! What a brilliant surprise!" He exclaimed, approaching them slightly.

"Well thank you, me and my son caught it earlier, and immediately thought of you." Finnick's father said warmly. Mr. Cresta glanced at the boy and held out his hand. Finnick shook it.

"A firm grip young..."

"Finnick." Finnick told him.

"Ah, yes. I knew that." The mayor said, and Finnick retreated his hand. Finnick noticed Mrs. Cresta had removed herself from the situation. "Thank you very much Mr, Odair, my wife will make a bountiful meal out of that... Your price?" The mayor asked Finnick's father. The two older men traded the fish for five gold coins, which Finnick held for his father. Just before they left a girl by only the age of ten hopped up to her father and gasped dramatically at the fish. The older men laughed at her reaction, and Finnick smiled. The girl was the spitting image of her mother, with long, flowing, dark hair and pale skin. Finnick noticed, however, that the girl had her father's eyes.

"Yes, kind Mr. Odair gave this to us for the feast tonight Annie!" The mayor said to his daughter, and then they both waved the Odair's off, closing the door behind them. Finnick walked abnormally quiet beside his father, hands in his pockets. His father didn't ask him why, he knew. Finnick had an older brother, much older. He had finished his reaping's way before Finnick was even eligible to go. His brother was a 'traitor' to the family, well at least to his father. Finnick's father had desperately hoped that his oldest son would become his partner in the business, but instead he left for the big branch in fish selling, to follow the crowd. His father _was_ furious, but now he relied on Finnick, young Finnick by only the age of twelve, to take over the family business one day. It was a lot of pressure.

They got back to the house after fifteen minutes of walking. Finnick was tired and hungry, but he didn't say anything. His mother, a woman with dark blonde hair and bright green eyes, ordered him to get changed. Finnick obliged, and shoved off the salty t-shirt and khaki shorts. His mother combed his bronze hair, like she so rarely did, and shifted his collar. They all walked to the town at twenty to two, and Finnick kept praying and praying that he wouldn't be picked.

He left his father and mother when they reached the large town square, which was at level ground. He spotted one of his friends, Russ, a lanky boy with the same green eyes and black hair. Russ's eyes flickered Finnick's way, and he nodded sternly, and Finnick nodded back, and then joined the sea of children. The town square had been completely renovated during the course of the day; two huge screens with the Panem symbol on them were near the front, on either side of the stage. Three metal chairs stood near the back of the stage, by the Justice Building. And then his eyes saw the two glass bowls, and his heart sped up.

Finnick followed the kids in front of him to be registered.

"Next please," The peacekeeper drawled, holding out a gloved hand. Finnick obliged, and put his tanned hand into the pristine white one. A short stab of a pain followed, and his bright red blood dripped onto the paper. The peacekeeper checked it, and the machine bleeped. "Go ahead." He said again, and Finnick walked past the table, putting on a brave face. He joined the group of chatting twelve year old boys, and suddenly he heard a familiar voice beside him.

"You alright?" Russ asked quietly. Finnick looked straight ahead.

"Fine." He grunted. He felt Russ nod beside him. "You?" Finnick asked.

"Great. Good." The boy said. Finnick nodded too. "You're not going to volunteer, are you Finn?"

Finnick looked round to him, surprised by his words. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"It's just that yesterday, after school, Rhett said you would." Russ retorted. Finnick's eyes narrowed. Of course Rhett would say that. Rhett was a beefy boy in Finnick and Russ's class, with not even a hint of sea green eyes, but cold hazel ones. He had short, brown hair and a snarky grin on his face all the time. Rhett disliked Finnick because of his father, the two fathers never got along. Rhett's father was head of the industry of fishing in the mariner, and had always wanted to buy the small fishing company the Odair's owned.

"Well, I'm not." Finnick snapped at Russ. Russ sighed and nodded again, and they both looked forward.

"He said you threatened him, said you were going to take him down." Russ said. Finnick boiled with anger, and his hands balled up into fists at his sides.

"I didn't." Finnick said harshly.

"I know you didn't now." Russ said quickly back. And before Finnick could ask the same question Russ had asked, a microphone screeched loudly. Finnick's eyes glanced over to the grey stage and saw a woman with long, flowing white hair hobble over into a seat, and a young man with a small mouth and a missing left hand sat beside the older woman. Finnick then noticed who they were. The woman was Mags, who Finnick had met a great deal of times in the market, where she brought the most expensive of their fish they sold on a Sunday. The man was a much more recent victor, from only a couple of years back. Finnick could remember how he lost his hand, and he didn't want to think about it. He forgot his name though.

The mayor walked up to the stage then, followed by the escort for District four, a young, pale man with a flashy green suit and he had a long tie that had tiny fish swimming on it. The mayor stood by the podium while the escort, Toni Warrem, sat on the free chair.

"Welcome, children!" Mayor Cresta exclaimed into the microphone. "Very soon we will know our two tributes! However, first we have a special film to show you..."

The film was about the histories of Panem, and Finnick knew the story well. The voice of President Snow haunted him a little bit, though. When it finished a great hush went over the crowd as Toni Warrem jumped up and walked up to the podium, his seat taken by the mayor.

"Happy Hunger Games!" Toni called out crisply, his Capitol accent cold and sharp. "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favour! Right, we all know how this works, so let's get on with it, shall we? Ladies first!" He called out, and walked briskly towards the table that held the two glass bowls filled with tiny notes of paper to the left of the stage. Toni stuck his hand into one, and pulled out one note quickly, and started un-wrapping it while he walked back to the microphone. "Lessa Marthe!" He exclaimed, throwing his pale hand up into the air. Cheers went about the crowd as Lessa, an eighteen year old with auburn hair, walked up to the stage. She smiled brightly as she stood next to Toni.

"That's good; she was going to volunteer anyway." Russ hissed at Finnick through the cheers. Then Toni turned his attention to the crowd.

"Now for the men!" He shouted, and the applause died down quickly. Finnick's heart was in his throat as Toni walked up the other bowl. He picked one, and then walked back to the podium. He opened it, and Finnick prayed so hard it made his head hurt.

"Russell Darren!"

Finnick had forgotten to pray for his best friend. There were no cheers this time. Only gasps and the silence that followed after them. A twelve year old picked? Certain death. Russ stiffened by Finnick's side, and a pathway enfolded between the people for him. Russ glanced at Finnick, and Finnick couldn't speak. What should he do? What _could_ he do?

Russ walked steadily up to the stage. Finnick knew Russ was the soul of his family, what with his mother dead, his father at work all the time and his little sister needing taken care of. Finnick was just about to shout "I volunteer!" when somebody did that for him.

"That's right, I volunteer!" A thick voice came from behind Finnick. Finnick was cut short, and then he breathed a sigh of relief. Russ looked shocked, and then relief played on his features too. The person who said the words pushed his way through the crowd and Russ got out of the way for him. Peacekeepers took Russ's arms and shoved him towards the parent's crowd, where his father hugged his boy and his little sister squealed with delight. Finnick looked back to the stage and recognised the volunteer immediately. It was the ever popular, husky, eighteen year old Mark Reed, with his short brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Finnick heard girls swoon over Mark, and Finnick rolled his eyes. Cheers erupted then, and Mark waved to his crowd.

"Ah! A volunteer! How wonderful! And what is your name, young sir?" Toni asked loudly over the crowd.

"Mark Reed." Mark said sternly, and the girls swooned even more and the cheers grew. Finnick breathed in yet another sigh of relief. He was safe for another year, his friend was safe. He looked over to the parent's crowd and smiled at his mother and father. His father looked more than relieved, his father was beaming. His mother was wiping tears of joy onto a silk cloth.

"This year's tributes!" Toni exclaimed from the stage, and Finnick looked back. He glanced over to Russ, who was smiling at him, and wiping his forehead dramatically. Finnick laughed and waved at him, and Russ's father waved as well as his son.

"Lessa Marthe and Mark Reed!" Toni shouted, and Finnick cheered as well when the two eighteen-year-olds held hands and threw their linked arms up in the air. "May the odds be ever in your favour!" Toni repeated, and he, the mayor, Mags, and the other victor all clapped as well. Mark and Lessa then separated, and walked through the opening Justice Building doors.

Afterwards Finnick filed out with the other kids, who were all rejoicing that they hadn't been chosen. The wave of relief was still over Finnick, and he let it swell over him. Then he caught his father's eye, and he ran over to him. Mr. Odair caught the thin Finnick up in his arms and hugged him close. He then set the boy down and placed his hands on his shoulders. He bent over and whispered in his ear.

"I saw what you were going to do; you were going to volunteer for him, weren't you?"

Finnick stepped back and stared his father coldly in the eye. His father nodded, and then Finnick's mother found him, and he was rejoicing with her, hugging her small frame. Was it that obvious? That he was going to volunteer? He wouldn't do it as an act of selfishness, to be bathed in riches, but to spare his friends life. After his mother pulled away and soaked up all the tears, she left Finnick to help prepare the feast that was for that night.

"It was very brave." His father said beside him, arms crossed over his chest. Finnick gave a small smile, and before he could talk to his father Russ's little sister was running over to him. The girl was only about six, with strawberry-blonde hair, freckles and dimples, and the sea green eyes Finnick saw everywhere. The girl's impact hit him, and she hugged his chest.

"Finn! Finn! You saved my brother!" She exclaimed. Finnick was set a back again. If a girl by the age of six knew that, then surely everyone else did.

"No, no, I didn't save your brother Sandy, Mark Reed did." Finnick hushed her, bending down. Sandy scowled, and stared at him in the eye for a long moment, and then smiled brightly, as if she had just been told a huge secret.

"Sandy!" She heard a man call then, and both Finnick and the small child looked up. Russ's father, Mr. Darren, was running after his little girl, tugging Russ along with him. Sandy left Finnick to join the family, and hugged her father's leg. "There you are, you little chick!" The man said brightly. Russ cut away from his father's grasp, and ran over to Finnick.

"Hey, thanks." He said when he got to him. Finnick watched his own father join Russ's father, and they shook hands.

"What?" Finnick asked suddenly, as if he just knew Russ was there.

"I said thanks, for nearly volunteering." Russ said, and gave Finnick a smile.

"I did not do that." Finnick told him coldly. Russ's smile faded, but he laughed.

"Finn, you basically followed me up there."

"Mark saved your life, not me." Finn retorted, looking away.

"No, Mark saved _your_ life." Russ implied. "And _thank you_ Finn." Russ said slowly. "Thank you." He repeated.

Finnick looked back and nodded a little. "Do you think anyone else noticed?" He asked.

"Oh, maybe. You did look pretty determined to join me up there." Russ said, and they both laughed. Then their father's joined them, and Sandy ran off to play with her friends.

"What you laughing about boys?" Finnick's father asked them. Finnick and Russ looked up with faces of questioning.

"We weren't laughing." Russ said; his face stony. Then their father's laughed as well, at how ridiculous his face was.

Then the small Cresta girl hopped up to them, her features of disbelief.

"Everyone was saying _you_ were going to volunteer!" Annie whispered in shock. Finnick and Russ left their fathers laughing behind them; bringing Annie to the side of the square. "You were going to, weren't you?" She asked again. Finnick sighed and Russ crossed his arms over his chest.

"Finn doesn't like the attention." Russ said matter-of-factly. Annie smiled and looked up at Finnick.

"So _that's_ your name!" She said, and held out her hand. "I'm Annie..."

"I _know_ who _you_ are." Finnick cut her short, but shook her hand anyway. Then Annie looked at Russ, and held her hand out again. Russ shook it.

"Glad to be acquainted with your presence Mr. Darren." She said politely, and Finnick and Russ burst out into laughter. "What?" She asked them, standing tall. Finnick looked up from his laughter.

"You're so posh Annie, it's hard to believe." He said, and held his stomach while he laughed.

"Yeah, it's like you're from the Capitol!" Russ exclaimed. Annie's face went bright red.

"I am _not _from the Capitol!" She growled, her hands balling up into fists at her sides. Finnick then knew he was hurting her, so he stopped.

"Sorry, Annie." He said quietly, and Annie smiled a little.

At the feast that night Finnick was quite a hero. Many people had seen him walk up to volunteer before Mark, but he never got his chance. Finnick's father thanked Mark's father, a huge man with a stubby black beard and a bald head. Mark's father was extremely proud of his son, and was confident that he, or Lessa, was going to win.

The bright blue sky gradually turned to black and the stars and moon appeared. His father's fish were the talk of the town too, Mrs. Cresta and Mrs. Odair and the other woman had been preparing the sea food since the reaping had finished. Men drank beer, laughing a little too much, and woman rolled their eyes at their husbands. People rejoiced all night long, saying that this year, like so many years before, they would win again.

Also, on that night, Rhett and his two followers; Stan (A thin, barbarous, talkative boy) and Chas (A big, silent boy) approached Finnick, Rhett's misshapen smile piercing the boy.

"Getting popular now Finny?" Rhett teased him, his hazel eyes as piercing as his horrid smile. Annie, who had hung around Finnick and Russ all night, stepped in front of Finnick.

"Leave him _alone_." She growled again like she did earlier. Rhett just laughed as he eyed the tiny Annie.

"Got you a girlfriend Finnick, eh? Not much of a catch, is she?" Rhett said menacingly. Finnick stepped in front of Annie, right up to Rhett.

"I would stop right there." He said, pointing at Rhett. Rhett smiled.

"Oh? And what are _you_ going to do about it?" Rhett asked, poking Finnick in the shoulder. "You're so thin I could break your arm just by looking at it!" Rhett said, and then Stan and Chas laughed behind him. "I mean seriously, you wouldn't be able to survive ten seconds the games, let alone win. What _has _your father been doing to you? Mine always said the Odair's _were_ thin rakes who needed to be thrown out of the district."

That hurt Finnick. He wanted so desperately to punch Rhett in the face. Maybe he could be more built up. He _was_ strong, to a certain degree. All the years of swimming in the deep waters and hanging off the edge of a boat _had_ built him up, in a way. But he knew he couldn't take up a fight with Rhett right now. He suddenly felt the heat of Rhett's breath, and he backed away, pulling Russ and Annie along with him.

"Yeah! That's right! Not so tough now, are you Odair?" He heard Rhett shout behind him and the laughter of Rhett's 'friends', but Finnick just kept walking. He promised himself then, that if he ever had to be in that kind of situation again he would fight, and he would win.


End file.
